unafraid of toil
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Collection of Hufflepuff drabbles and oneshots:: 1. Hannah takes care of a frightened first year.
1. Lullaby

_Mythology, task 5: Write about a maternal woman who isn't a mother_

 _Holmes: Wingardium Leviosa_

 _Showtime, I Am Here For You: lullaby_

 _Word Count: 505_

* * *

Hannah wakes the moment she hears crying. By now, she thinks most of the older kids have learned how to tune out the sounds of panic. They undoubtedly manage much more peaceful sleep experiences, but she doesn't envy them at all. She hopes she never becomes deaf to the cries.

With a yawn, she grabs her wand—an instinct of wartime. It doesn't matter that they are safely tucked away within the Room of Requirement; the world is falling apart, and she has to always be prepared—and climbs out of the bed she shares with Susan and a fifth year Hufflepuff named Vanessa. The floor is cold against her bare feet, but she doesn't care. She moves along through the dim lighting until she reaches the Gryffindor area.

A first year girl, Alice, sits on the edge of the bed, her thin legs drawn against her chest. She sniffles and wipes frantically at her eyes.

"It's okay, love," Hannah murmurs, casting a quick charm on the mattress so that it won't transfer movement and wake the girl's bedmates. She sits down. "Bad dreams again?"

Alice nods, pushing her dark curls back so that Hannah can see how how swollen her wet eyes are. "They had me again," she whispers. "Th-they hurt me."

Hannah doesn't have to ask. She can still remember the day Neville and Ernie had brought Alice in. They had found her in the dungeons, held prisoner by the Carrows. The poor dear had been starved half to death, and her body had been covered with bruises and curse scars. It's a miracle she had pulled through at all.

"Come here," Hannah says gently.

The younger girl moves closer, wrapping her frail arms around Hannah. Hannah smiles sadly before hugging Alice, rocking her gently. She ignores her own tears as she recalls the lullaby her mother would sing to her.

Her singing voice is terrible. The last thing she needs is for others to wake up because her poor attempt at singing sounds like a dying cat. Instead, she hums the melody, steadily rocking the Gryffindor like a child.

Hannah doesn't know how long she lasts before Alice's tiny body falls slack, but she continues to rock her a little longer. After several moments, she shifts carefully, laying Alice back down. With soft smile, she tucks the girl in and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Goodnight, sweet girl," she whispers before heading back to bed.

Back in the Hufflepuff section, she notices a blanket on the floor and smiles fondly. " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," she says softly, lifting the blanket and guiding it on top of the second year boy who must have kicked it off in his sleep.

So many of them have lost their family. No one has any guarantee that they will ever see their parents again. Though it breaks her heart, Hannah refuses to let it get to her. For the time being, they will have to be a family, and she will do everything she can to care for them.


	2. Letting Go

Word _Count: 460_

* * *

Susan doesn't know if she can do this. The thought of letting go of someone she's known for so many years is far more painful than she would have thought possible. Hufflepuffs are meant to be loyal, but she feels anything but.

She paces the length of the Astronomy Tower again and again, trying to sort out her thoughts. Her mind is still so cluttered with confusion and emotions. Maybe it's the fact that she's spent so much time surrounded by chaos and bloodshed. All she wants to do is put it behind her and move onto happier, more positive things.

Susan comes to a stop and leans against the railing, looking down at the Hogwarts grounds below. This has always been her favorite spot. There's something comforting about being so above it all, so far away. The Astronomy Tower makes her feel safe, like nothing can touch her. She hopes it can lend her the strength she needs today.

"There you are." Zacharias appears, grinning at her as he approaches. "You and your bloody heights. I hate it."

"Good afternoon," she says politely.

Zacharias laughs, adjusting the atrociously bright orange hat atop his head. "So formal," he teases. "Blimey, you'd think you were meeting with the bloody Minister or something."

Susan almost smiles, but she can't quite bring herself to do it. She takes a deep breath and reaches out, resting her hand on her old friend's shoulder. "We've been through a lot," she says, heaving a sigh.

"I'm getting nervous…"

Her cheeks burn. She wonders if he can see right through her. Does he somehow know exactly what comes next?

"We've grown a lot," she continues.

"Grown apart, you mean," he mutters. "You know, deep down I'm not a complete arse."

Susan turns away from him, her eyes fixed upon the horizon. "I don't think I believe in 'deep down'. I think that all you are is just the things that you do."

"How philosophical," he says dryly. "Sure you aren't a Ravenclaw?"

She rolls her eyes. He's deflecting; this hurts him more than he'll ever admit. "I'm sorry."

Zacharias laughs, the sound thin and bitter. "You say that, but you seem pretty happy about the whole thing."

"I'm not."

She hates this, but she knows it has to be this way. As much as she loves Zacharias, he is too negative. Susan has spent years making excuses for him and trying to justify his cruelty, but she can't do it anymore. This war has left its mark. It's time for her to find serenity.

"Yeah, well…" He doesn't finish his sentence. Without another word, Zacharias stalks off, leaving Susan alone.

She slumps forward. Change is a natural part of life. If only it didn't hurt so much.


	3. Not Hers to Lose

_Word Count: 582_

* * *

Amelia huffs disdainfully, frowning when the wintry air makes her breath visible. Despite living here her entire life, she still has trouble adjusting to the cold weather. It's dreadful and dreary, and she just wants to go home and bundle up and escape this horrible chill. Unfortunately, she has an important meeting soon. The best she can do is slip into Flourish and Blotts and enjoy the bookshop's warmth.

"Madam Bones! Lovely to see you! Anything I can help you with?" the clerk calls.

"Just looking today," she says simply before ducking into the nearest row of shelves.

It isn't that she's being rude by being curt. Amelia just has too much on her mind, and she doesn't want to socialize. If she keeps her walls up, no one will try to bother her.

"Milly?"

She groans when she hears that voice. Only one man would call her by such a ridiculous nickname. When she turns, she isn't surprised to find herself staring at John Dawlish. The Auror adjusts his beige scarf and offers her a bright smile.

"It seems like ages, doesn't it?"

Amelia resists the urge to roll her eyes. "I saw you at the office just yesterday," she reminds him.

It shouldn't be this hard, but it hurts. John regards her so casually now. Once, he had been infatuated with her, and Amelia never seemed to be able to escape his affection. Now, he's moved on, and Amelia misses those days of simplicity and teasing.

She hadn't realized how much she wanted him until the affection ceased. Maybe she'd always assumed what she felt was annoyance and nothing more. Now, she misses those moments. She knows he could have been hers, but now the ring on his finger is a reminder that she has made a terrible mistake.

"I don't suppose I can persuade you to join me for a drink," he says. "My treat."

Her stomach twists itself into knots. He isn't hers to lose; why does it hurt so damn much? Amelia shakes her head. "I really shouldn't."

"Come on, Milly," he says. "I just want you to be happy, and I hear alcohol is a key to happiness."

A small laugh escapes her lips, and she shakes her head. John has always been a strange one. Sometimes she wonders if he actually thinks before he speaks, or if he likes to be just as surprised as everyone else. It had been annoying once, but now she sees it as endearing.

She turns her attention to the nearest shelf and traces a slender finger over the spine of a book. "I have a meeting," she tells him. "I don't think I ought to drink."

John chuckles. "Afraid you can't hold your liquor? What about after?"

Amelia glances at him before continuing her stroll through the aisle. "Why do you care so much?"

"I miss you. I know we never stood a chance, but…" He shrugs. "I value you as a person, and I want to be friends."

That hurts more than anything, but she manages to smile through. "I must be mad," she says, pushing a hand through her short red hair. "My meeting will be over around five. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron around half past?"

"I'll be waiting."

She wonders if she's a glutton for pain. That has to be the only logical explanation. Or maybe there's nothing even remotely logical about this. Whatever the reason, she thinks maybe John is worth the pain.


	4. Matches Made

_Word Count: 696_

* * *

Susan doesn't mind waiting. She knows her aunt has a stressful job, and she has seen the mountains of paperwork on her desk. Being the head of any department is a lot of work, but she imagines the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is on a whole other level.

Besides, Aunt Amelia is worth waiting for, so Susan sits quietly, dipping her apple slices in honey. It's a small snack, not enough to ruin her appetite, but enough to tide her over until dinner.

"How was school this year?" Aunt Amelia asks. "Your father says you did well in Defense."

Susan blushes. She already knows what her aunt is going to get at. It seems to be an endless discussion with them. Aunt Amelia expects Susan to follow in her footsteps, to become an Auror. "I also did tremendous in Potions," Susan says. "Even Professor Snape couldn't find anything to criticize."

Her aunt scowls at the name. She doesn't like Professor Snape at all. Then again, most people who aren't Slytherins tend to dislike him. Susan can hardly blame them. She gets along with everyone, but her professor is too much of a bully to like.

Before her aunt can respond, there's a knock at the door. A moment later, a man with a devilish smile and bright teal robes opens it and peers inside. "Ah! Milly! I didn't realize you had a guest." He nods politely at Susan. "I'm guessing you are the famous Susan Bones. Your aunt talks about you all the time."

Aunt Amelia clears her throat, eyes narrowing at the man. "Dawlish, shouldn't you be going home?"

Susan resists the urge to laugh. It's so obvious that Dawlish fancies her aunt. Poor bloke. Aunt Amelia is either horribly oblivious or doesn't feel the same.

"I was going to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," he says. "It seems that you have other engagements." He grins at Susan before bowing his head. "Maybe tomorrow, Milly."

With that, he's gone. Aunt Amelia returns to her paperwork as though nothing has happened. Susan giggles.

"What?" Aunt Amelia asks, brows raising as she dips her quill in ink.

"Nothing. It's just a cruel reminder that I'm single and likely to stay that way forever," Susan says with a dramatic sigh. "I know that no boy will ever look at me the way Dawlish looks at you."

Her aunt glares before rolling her eyes. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Aunt Amelia, please. He is obviously crazy about you."

"He's a coworker."

"A coworker," Susan says patiently, "who fancies you. Oh! Is he an Auror? How scandalous!"

The color that rises in her aunt's cheeks is too amusing. Susan covers her mouth to keep from giggling. Maybe her aunt isn't as oblivious after all; maybe the feeling is actually mutual.

"He is my polar opposite," Aunt Amelia insists.

"You know what they say. Opposites attract."

And maybe it's true. Her aunt is by the book, so concerned about order. Susan has only met Dawlish for all of ten seconds, but it's clear that he is much more free-spirited than her aunt. They both fancy each other, so it's just a matter of taking that leap of fate and embracing change.

Susan grins, dipping her apple in honey again before nibbling it. "I think you should have dinner with him," she says. "Not tonight. Obviously tonight is sushi with me. Maybe tomorrow?"

Aunt Amelia sets the quill down, studying Susan in silence for several long moments. Susan hates it when she does that. It always feels like those navy eyes can see into her soul.

Finally, Aunt Amelia shrugs. "You really want this to happen, don't you."

Susan smiles, leaning back in her chair. "I want you to be as happy as possible. He seems like a good bloke."

"I suppose he is." Aunt Amelia taps her fingers against her desk. "One dinner wouldn't hurt."

"Not at all," Susan agrees.

"Fine. I'll tell him tomorrow."

Susan beams at that. She may plan on one day opening an apothecary of her own, but maybe she could have a future as a matchmaker. Only time will tell.


	5. A New Chapter

_For Amanda_

 _Word Count: 572_

* * *

Hannah steps outside, steaming cup of coffee in hand. The spring air is crisp and still as a bit of a chill in it. She shivers, adjusting her cardigan and making her way to the plot of land that will serve as a garden. Her husband is there, hard at work.

"I figured you would sleep until noon," Neville says, looking up at her. He wipes the sweat from his brow and leaves behind a brown-black streak of soil. "You got in late last night."

Hannah groans at the reminder. Viv, her newest worker, had failed to appear without any notice, and Hannah had covered half of her shift before she had shown up. She hadn't made it home until after two in the morning.

On a normal day, she would have slept in. Today, however, there is something else on her mind, and caffeine will have to make up for her lack of sleep.

"What the hell is that?" Neville asks, lifting what looks like a rock. He squeezes it gently, and it crumbles. "Just dirt."

"Rita Skeeter wrote another article," Hannah says, though _rumor_ is probably a better word for it. She doesn't know how that woman is allowed to continue her career as a journalist. Most of what she says is a lie, and no one even pays attention to her. "I am allegedly an alcoholic, and you might be having an affair with Astoria Malfoy."

He snorts. "Funny. Wasn't I shagging Ginny last week?"

"No, that was last month." Hannah grins. It has almost become a game for so many of them, a contest to see who has the juiciest rumor made up about them. Harry always wins, though Ron and Hermione are often a close second.

She takes a deep breath. Most days, she wouldn't bother coming out to talk to him about silly rumors; those were usually saved for when they sit down and talk about their day. Today, however, it's necessary.

Hannah swallows dryly. Her hands tremble so much that her coffee splashes around within the cup.

It isn't a big deal. Neville will be happy.

So why is she so nervous about this? Why does her stomach feel like it has twisted itself into a painful knot that can't be undone?

"Hannah?" Neville jumps to his feet, nearly falling but quickly catching his balance. He's by her side in an instant. "Hey. What's wrong?"

She laughs softly. "Wrong? Nothing. I just… I'm thinking about how it's good that those rumors aren't true. Excessive drinking would harm the baby."

"The baby? What baby?" But as soon as he asks, it seems to click. Neville's eyes widen, and his gaze rests on her stomach. "We're having a baby."

"We are," she confirms, all the tension leaving her body when she sees him grin.

He goes to hug her but hesitates. "I don't want to spill your coffee."

With a chuckle, she sets the cup down and opens her arms. Neville hugs her, peppering her face with kisses. "We're having a baby," he says again, his tone halfway between joy and disbelief. "Come on. This calls for a giant plate of celebratory chips."

"Preferably without ketchup."

Neville laughs, wrapping an arm around her. "Ketchup is the king of all condiments."

She rolls her eyes, but she can't fight the smile that tugs at her lips. It's such a perfect day for a new chapter in their lives.


End file.
